Thunder and Lightning
by ihadtoputitsomewhere
Summary: What if when Gerard took Stiles, he didn't just beat him up? What if it was much more than that? Water-boarding is not just a form of interrogation, it's a form of torture.
1. Chapter 1

**What if when Gerard took Stiles, he didn't just beat him up? What if it was much more than that? Water-boarding is not just a form of interrogation, it's a form of torture.**

Gerard swung open the door, his hand clamped tightly on the back of my neck.

"Ow." I said with as much attitude as I could muster given the current situation. He took a step forward, forcing me forward as well.

"Ow." I said again. Before I could brace myself, Gerard threw me headfirst down the basement steps. I hit the ground hard, the cold concrete cutting into my skin like ice. I pushed myself up and turned to face Gerard.

"You and I are going to have a bit of fun now, Stiles." Right on cue, two men came up behind me, as if out of the shadows. They each held one of my arms behind my back, kicked the back of my legs so that I had no choice but to kneel, and one of them forced my head into a position where I was face to face with Allison's insane grandfather.

"Yeah, well, your definition of fun is very different than mine, old man. What are you, like 90? I could probably kick your ass up and down this ro—" Before I could finish, one of the men threw a cloth over my mouth and nose. They picked me up and hauled me across the room. A metal table lay in the center, illuminated by a single bulb hanging by its wire from the ceiling.

"Hey, hey, wait. What are you… no wait just… hey!" I stammered. I kicked and flailed, trying desperately to escape the grasp of my captors. Underneath the table there was a metal bucket. The men forced me onto the table. One of them held me down while the other began taking off my clothes. First my shirt, then my pants, leaving me in nothing but my underwear. Gerard reached under the table and pulled out the bucket. He began walking across the room to the sink, bucket in hand.

"Like I said Stiles. We're going to have some fun." He turned the faucet on and place the bucket under the water. "Unless…" he turned to face me. "You tell me what I want to know." He turned and shut the water off. Gerard picked up the bucket and walked towards me. While he was talking, the men had tied my hands and feet to the table with industrial-grade duct tape. I couldn't move. I was completely helpless. Gerard leaned over the table, his face mere inches away from mine.

"Where is Derek Hale?" He spat at me, his voice full of hate and cruelty. I looked at him, expressionless. I remained silent. "I'll give you one more chance Mr. Stilinski. Where. Is. Derek. Hale?" I said nothing.

The water came like a brick wall. I barely had enough time to inhale so that I could hold my breath before the cold liquid flooded over my mouth and nose. I held out for as long as possible, but then my reflexes took over and my mouth opened. Water rushed in, filling up every possibility of open space. I began choking and gagging. I was blind because of the cloth the men held over my face. Suddenly it stopped and the cloth was ripped away. The single light bulb hanging from the ceiling suddenly seemed like a million suns. I coughed and threw up as much of the water as possible. Gerard grabbed me by the back of my neck and forced me to look at him.

"Where is he?!" He yelled, his voice like thunder. I spat the remaining water into his face and he slammed my head back down on the table.

"Again!" He commanded. The process began again. And again. And again. Until finally it stopped. The men disappeared. Gerard vanished. And I was alone.

I rolled off the table and onto the cold, wet ground. I was shaking and shivering and coughing and sputtering water but all I could think about was _why?_ Why me? I'm not a werewolf, I can't help Gerard get what he wants. Then it came to me. It wasn't me. It was everyone else. His target audience isn't me, it's everyone around me. Scott, Lydia, my dad. This was for them. This was to hurt them. Gerard doesn't care about me, I'm just a stepping-stone to get to someplace better.

I crawled over to the nearest wall and laid down, by back pressed against the hard cement. I tucked my elbow underneath my head and closed my eyes. All I could do now was…wait.

**Please stay tuned! More to come!**


	2. Chapter 2

After what seemed like days, I heard something besides the sound of my own breathing and the chattering of my teeth. I sat up and hugged my knees, mentally preparing myself for more torture. The noise got louder and louder. There were shouts. There were gunshots. There were screams. I squeezed my eyes shut and bit my bottom lip so hard I tasted blood. Any second now, they would come down here, find me, and hurt me.

There was a pound on the door leading down to the basement. Then another. Then another and then finally the door gave way and swung open. Someone bounded down the stairs and fumbled for the light switch. When it flickered on, Scott stood at the base of the stairs, one hand on the light switch and the other with claws out ready to attack.

"Stiles!" Scott cried. He ran over to me and immediately scanned my body for injuries. Seeing that I was only dressed in my underwear, Scott took off his sweatshirt and put it on me.

"I'm okay. I'm—Scott, we have to go. Th—he's coming. If he comes back a-and we're still here. Scott, he's going to kill us, we have to go." Scott nodded and tried to help me up. I stood up, my legs shaky and numb from not being used for several hours. Scott slung my arm over his shoulder and supported me by my waist. As quickly as we could, we got up the stairs and out the back door. There were bodies everywhere. I recognized one as one of the men who had held me down earlier while Gerard nearly drowned me. There were others who I couldn't place…too many for me to count. I nearly tripped a few times, but Scott caught me, scooping me up and continuing to run without even breaking stride.

We made it out the door and into the street without a problem. Scott led me to his bike. We both put on our helmets, got on the bike, and sped off towards my house.

~O~

Scott pulled into my driveway and cut the engine. It had started raining lightly, but the thunder and lightning in the distance told us that it would pick up soon. Dad's car was gone; he was probably still at the station trying to find me. I made a mental note to call him later. I realized that I hadn't moved since we pulled up, and Scott was now taking my helmet off for me. I went to left my arms up to help him, but they didn't budge. I couldn't move. Scott picked me up and carried me bridal style into the house. Carefully, he brought me upstairs and sat me down on my bed.

"I'm going to find you some dry clothes, okay?" I merely nodded.

He searched every drawer before he finally pulled out a pair of grey sweatpants and a red hoodie. He crossed the room over to me and pulled his damp sweatshirt over my head and replaced it with my warm one. He crouched down and began taking off my still-sopping underwear. He slid the sweatpants over my feet and up to my waist. Scott then went back to searching for something for him to wear. When he had found what he was looking for, Scott came and sat down next to me. I hadn't said a word since we got home. I didn't know where to start. It didn't seem real, what happened to me. Waterboarding is something out of movies, not something that actually happens. Only it does happen. It happened to me.

"I don't…" Scott began, "know what happened. I don't want to know what happened, don't tell me. Just…know that…I'm here now. I'll take care of you."

Lightning flashed outside my window. Three seconds later thunder crashed so loud my house shook. I flinched and grabbed Scott's hand, squeezing tight. He squeezed back reassuringly. The rain had picked up significantly. It now came down in sheets, as if the sky was one big bucket. Images suddenly flashed through my mind, of Gerard, of the two men who held me down, of darkness. I felt as if the water was still choking me and began taking deep breaths, panting as if I was running a marathon. Scott shifted so that he was face to face with me. He was saying something…but I couldn't hear anything over the rushing of water and the pounding in my chest.

"-iles! Stiles look at me man. You have to calm down. You're going to pass out." He placed both of his hands on my face, his thumbs rubbing my cheeks and my temples. "Calm down Stiles. It's okay now." I looked at him, trying to calm myself down before I freaked myself into a panic attack.

"Scott…"

"Yeah, it's Scott. It's me, Stiles. I'm not going to hurt you. No one is going to hurt you anymore. Trust me."

"He…he hurt me, Scott. Gerard, he…w-with the water a-and the towel. And those men were there too…they helped, they…on the table and the bucket and—"

"Hey, it's okay. It's okay. We took care of it. Isaac and I took care of it."

My eyes widened in realization. "M-my dad. Scott, my dad. He's—"

"I called him already. He knows you're safe. He will be home later. Don't worry about it."

I closed my eyes and let out a long sigh of relief. Thunder boomed again and my eyes shot open. I cringed, as if the thunder was going to hurt me. I felt Scott take both my hands in his, squeezing them. The warmth seemed to calm me down some, but I was still terrified that someone was just going to burst through the door and hurt me again. Just the thought of it made me want to cry. So I did. I let tears to brim my eyes. I let them to fall onto our tangled mess of hands. I let them to stream down my cheeks. I let Scott to reach up and wipe them away with his thumb. I sniffed and opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

"If you're going to ask me to stay," Scott said softly, "don't even bother because I was going to anyway."

I smiled with sad eyes. "Thank you." I whispered through the tears. Scott leaned over and pulled me into his arms. His hands were like heating pads on my back. the warmth gave me goosebumps as I melted into Scott.

"You should get some rest." He told me as he pulled away. I nodded and began to wrap myself in pillows and blankets. Scott helped, pulling the duvet cover up to my neck and tucking me in. My head sunk into the soft pillows and exhaustion finally set it with no mercy. I could barely keep my eyes open as I watched Scott assemble a makeshift bed on the ground. He stood over his masterpiece and nodded in satisfaction before turning around and switching off the lamp on my nightstand. I closed my eyes and listened. I heard Scott get into his little cocoon on the ground. I heard the wind blowing through the trees just outside my window. I heard a car every now and then drive along the wet pavement. I heard Scott's breathing steady as he drifted off to sleep. Soon enough, I did the same thing.

**More to come!**


	3. Chapter 3

Lightning flashed and thunder boomed. The clouds sounded like they were crashing into each other at full speed. The rain pounded hard on the roof. It grew so loud that Scott woke up and checked the bathroom to make sure none of the faucets were on.

I tossed and turned in my bed, stuck halfway between my nightmares and reality, though the difference between the two was growing harder and harder to find. In my head, images resurfaced. I relived the night's events over and over, each time impossibly worse than the last. Gerard throwing me down the stairs, being thrown and taped onto a cold, metal table, a cloth being thrown over my face and water flooding my throat. In my dream I choked and gagged, trying to get the water out. I gasped for air and flailed in my constraints. But it was for naught, I was helpless. Just as I was about to give up, to let the water kidnap me, I felt something, or someone shaking me. A voice called my name. It sounded so close, and yet still so far away. It sounded familiar and safe and strong. But I couldn't reach it. I tried to follow it, but I just couldn't do it.

There was a sharp pain in my cheek. Then another. Then another and finally I escaped my self-afflicted torture chamber and sat up in my bed, gasping for air and covered with sweat. Scott sat beside me, his hand still raised above his head. At first, I didn't know where I was, or who he was. So I swung my fists at nothing and kicked at no one and screamed for help and fought desperately to escape the grips of the bed sheets that we tangled around my ankles and torso.

"Stiles! Stiles, relax. Hey, it's okay. It's okay. You're alright." Scott had climbed behind me and wrapped his arms around my shoulders and held my wrists against my chest so that I didn't hurt myself or him. He repeated the mantra softly in my ear until I stopped flailing. He rocked side to side with me still in his arms.

"Shh…" he soothed, "it's okay. It was just a dream."

"No, no, no it—" I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. "It wasn't a dream. It happened. It happened."

"I know…I know. But it's over now. I'm here. I'll protect you." Scott assured me, his chin just grazing my ear as he spoke. I felt his breath on my neck. Just knowing that he was there sent a sense of relief through my body.

"What if he comes back? What if he gets in? H-h-he has guns, and big men, and silver bullets and Scott, you can't fight for your life and mine. It...it won't work. He's gonna…he's gonna—" My breath had left me completely and I began taking huge gulps of air, trembling even in Scott's firm hold.

"He won't get it, Stiles. I won't let him. I can protect you, I _will _protect you. I promise. Stiles…" he tightened his grip and moved one of his hands to the back of my head. He began gently twisting my hair in between his fingers, something my dad did to help me escape the dark depths of panic attacks.

Slowly I began to catch my breath and calm down. Scott ran his fingers over my scalp, his thumb rubbing over the back of my neck every now and then. I felt myself lean into his touch, and Scott shifted so that he was laying down on my bed, is arms never leaving me. I rested my cheek on his chest and reveled in the warmth that seeped through his thin grey t-shirt. Scott's fingers still traced shapes on the back of my neck and on my shoulder and on my upper back. I got goosebumbs. My eyes felt heavy, but I was too afraid to let them shut. They did slip closed once or twice, and I flinched as I woke myself up, still terrified of what I would see if they stayed closed.

"You should get some sleep." Scott whispered into my hair.

I pressed my lips into a worried line. "I can't."

"Why?" I didn't answer. "Stiles, talk to me. Maybe I can help."

I shook my head and tried to bury it further into Scott's chest. He place his hand gently on my head.

"What do you need me to do?" Scott asked.

I contemplated what to say. I needed him to take the memory of what happened out of my head and get rid of it forever. I needed him to take the pain away. I needed him to make it better. "Just…be here. Okay? I just need you to be here."

I felt Scott nod. He took a deep breath before he started talking again.

"My mom, uh, she used to tell me this one story when I was little. It was called La Lagartija y el Sol, or the Lizard and the Sun. A long time ago, the sun disappeared from the sky. Everything was dark for a really long time. All the animals searched for the sun by lakes and rivers, through the fields and forests, but the sun was nowhere to be found. Little by little, the animals began to give up. All except for the faithful lizard. Finally one day he came across a glowing rock. He befriended the rock, and visited her everyday. One day, the rock began to change. It was no longer the rock that the lizard had come to know, but was now the magnificent sun. The Lizard and the Sun still remained friends; the sun provided the lizards with warmth, and in return the lizards were the sun's best friends."

"Are you saying I'm a lizard?" I mumbled into Scott's chest, half asleep.

Scott laughed, "No! I'm saying that you're _like _the lizard. You always look for the light, even when everyone else has given up."

I smiled. "Really?"

"Mmhmm." Scott said into my hair.

"What if…" I began, "what if I can't find the light? What if the world is dark forever because I couldn't do it?"

"You have me. And Lydia, and your dad, and Allison. You have people who love you and care about you and will stick with you and who will be your map to show you how to get to where you're going."

I closed my eyes and sunk into Scott. "Thank you." I mumbled.

"You're welcome, Lizard-Boy."

"Can it, Wolf-Man. You're covered in hair, I get a freaking lizard tail. I'm like the real life Dr. Connors."

"Whatever, man. Wolves beat lizards. It's simple biology."

"Uh, not if you're 6ft and can regrow limbs on command. God, have you even seen The Amazing Spider-Man?"

"Nope."

"My g—okay when this whole Kanima thing is over, you're not leaving my house until you've seen every Marvel movie ever made."

Scott chuckled. "Yeah, okay."

"That…" I yawned. "is going to have to wait. G'night."

"Night." Scott replied. "…Lizard-Boy."

I smiled into his shirt, and drifted into a dreamless, peaceful slumber.

**That's all I got! Please review!**


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